


Crowley Cries During Sex

by toasty_freshest



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crying, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Smut, Tender Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 03:30:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20057305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toasty_freshest/pseuds/toasty_freshest
Summary: I wanted an overstimulated Crowley crying while getting dicked down and praised. So I wrote that.





	Crowley Cries During Sex

They had been lounging on the couch together, Aziraphale reading a book and Crowley watching a trashy American reality television programme he had a hand in inventing back in 2008. As these things tend to happen, the two inched closer together until Crowley realized that he was slouched nearly on top of Aziraphale and he would much prefer to be doing something other than watching television. So he turned his head and kissed Aziraphale on the neck. It was breathy and so, so unsubtle that Aziraphale laughed.

“What do you _say_, my dear boy?” Aziraphale all but cooed in his ear. 

“Pay attention to _me_ now,” Crowley said petulantly, carefully lifting the book from Aziraphale’s hands and placing it on the coffee table. 

“Now, you know that’s not how you ask nicely,” Aziraphale said, and gently pushed Crowley’s hands away from his lapels. “I can’t have you being greedy.” 

“Fine. Kiss me, angel?” So they kissed, and Aziraphale smiled into it. Crowley noticed, though, that it was different than usual. His efforts to move closer or kiss deeper were thwarted, not rudely, but firmly. Settling for the lighter kisses he still very much enjoyed, he reached out to touch Aziraphale’s cheek. Suddenly they were not kissing anymore.

“No, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, with a sternness that made Crowley blink behind his sunglasses, a little surprised. Aziraphale was not usually one to refuse his advances, but he obediently withdrew his hand. Then Aziraphale’s face softened, and he smiled and touched Crowley’s chest with a flat palm. “I’m taking care of you this time, and you’re not to touch me, do you understand? I promise I’ll be good to you, but you have to trust me.”

And what could Crowley do with that but agree? To be thoroughly ravished, with no obligation to reciprocate…well, wasn’t that Crowley’s ideal scenario? The no-touching rule might prove difficult, but only because Crowley was rather tactile in bed (Aziraphale would say “grabby”). So Crowley nodded, and Aziraphale leaned in to kiss him again. It remained light and soft, Aziraphale peppering kisses all over Crowley’s face and stroking his hair for long enough that Crowley wondered if Aziraphale would ever get around to kissing him _properly_, until Aziraphale finally placed a firm hand on the back of Crowley’s neck and drew him in. At this point, the two of them were usually a bit more urgent, and all Crowley could do to stop the instinctual tugging at shirt buttons was to ball his hands into fists and lean desperately into the kiss. 

The slowness of it all threatened to discorporate him. It felt like his whole body was being pricked from the inside with pins, magnetically attracted to the angel pressed against his somehow-still-clothed body. And what was worse was that he was _turned on_. It was as if the denial was an aphrodisiac all by itself, that being unable to touch could be as electrifying as touching was. The moment Aziraphale brushed the front of Crowley’s chest with his hand, Crowley shivered involuntarily. As Aziraphale’s hand moved upward Crowley leaned further into the contact. Aziraphale moved away from the kiss and pulled Crowley’s sunglasses off, looking into his yellow eyes with adoration. Crowley felt himself blush and instinctively looked away, but Aziraphale held his chin and forced Crowley to look at him. 

“You look lovely. And you mustn’t hide your beautiful eyes from me, okay?” The intensity of Aziraphale’s gaze caused Crowley to blush further. Another soft kiss, this time deeper than the others. Breaking the kiss once again, Aziraphale asked, “Care to move to the bedroom, dear?” Something inside him was blocking Crowley from speaking, but he didn’t know what, so he nodded and allowed himself to be pulled along to their bedroom. 

Aziraphale gently moved Crowley to the side of the bed and sat down with him, giving another deep, soothing kiss. Crowley, without thinking, grabbed Aziraphale’s lapels and tugged him in to a deeper kiss, but without breaking contact, Aziraphale took Crowley by the wrists and placed them back on the bedspread, pinning them there for a moment before letting go and continuing to ghost his fingers across Crowley’s thigh. Crowley wanted very much to disobey, call off the experiment and turn this into a more familiar encounter, a hungrier, more desperate one. But Aziraphale was in control, and at least part of Crowley wanted whatever feeling was crawling like vines inside his chest. Not to mention the parts of him that found it hot. Which there seemed to be more of each second that Aziraphale kept brushing his fingers across Crowley’s chest, down to his thighs and back up again. 

Crowley leaned back ever so slightly and cleared his throat. “Do you—what sort of…?” He waved his hand noncommittally toward his lap, and Aziraphale smiled, the pleasant wrinkles at the corners of his eyes making their appearance. 

“I’d like to be inside you. However you want me to be,” Aziraphale said. He stood and leaned over him, one leg between Crowley’s legs, and kissed him thoroughly, as Crowley manifested his genitalia. It was always an odd moment, because it wasn’t as if he were a doll down there until he decided otherwise, but it also wasn’t as if he were changing the shape of his bits every time he and Aziraphale got naked. It was more like he remembered that he _had_ bits in the first place, and as soon as he thought about them again, there they were, exactly as he assumed they would be. Of course, depending on the assumption, they showed up differently. Right now, Crowley assumed that he would be rather more wet than was strictly respectable for a light makeout session, and so he was. 

Aziraphale loosened Crowley’s tie and began to undo Crowley’s button-down, at a pace that truly could have made him beg if he wasn’t so self-conscious. Between each button, Aziraphale leaned down and kissed the skin of his chest, until Aziraphale was kneeling at the side of the bed between Crowley’s legs, Crowley breathing heavily, his chest and belly exposed, tie loose around his neck but still on. Aziraphale looked up, and Crowley once again losing his self-control, laced his fingers into Aziraphale’s hair. 

“Oh, you’re not being a very good boy, Crowley,” Aziraphale tutted, and, standing up, took the tie from around Crowley’s neck and tightened it around his wrists. “I’m going to treat you well, and there’s not a thing you can do about it.” Aziraphale paused for a moment, then added, “If you tell me to stop, though, I give you my word that I will.” Crowley nodded. As if such a thing had ever been in question. The restraint on his wrists was comforting in an odd sort of way. It was more like the times before, and he nodded sheepishly. 

“Now…where was I?” Aziraphale said, almost to himself. “Ah, yes,” he continued, and unbuttoned Crowley’s pants, placing a soft kiss just above the waistband of his underwear. “Hips up, dear.” Crowley complied, glad that the pace finally seemed to be picking up. But then, of course, once his pants were off, Aziraphale knelt and began kissing his thighs, refusing to move nearer to where Crowley really wanted him. With the added restraint of the tie around his wrists, Crowley was reminded not to grab Aziraphale’s head like he wanted to, but the tenderness with which Aziraphale was lavishing attention on him, holding his hips and ever so lightly tucking his fingers under the waistband of his underwear, kissing everywhere and looking up at Crowley with those big blue eyes. 

“Please” Crowley said, before he could stop himself. Aziraphale stopped and looked up at him and Crowley could swear there was a smirk on his lips. 

“Please what, darling?” Unable to answer, Crowley blushed. Aziraphale’s smirk grew wider as he hovered closer to Crowley’s most sensitive area. “This? Is this what you want?” Crowley nodded. “Use your words.”

“Yes,” he said, and it came out much quieter than he intended, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes, please.” As he said that, Aziraphale kissed Crowley through his underwear, and Crowley made a soft noise in the back of his throat. Aziraphale gave open-mouthed kisses there until Crowley’s underwear was wet, and not just because of Crowley’s growing arousal. Truth be told, Crowley was finding himself far more turned on than he could have imagined, and he wanted that layer of fabric gone. His shirt still hung open, but there was no way to remove it without also untying Crowley’s hands, and it seemed that Aziraphale would not allow that tonight. When Aziraphale stood and gently lowered Crowley backward onto the bed, he realized that Aziraphale was still fully dressed, from his vest down to his socks. Aziraphale removed the vest and untied his bowtie, but made no move to continue undressing, instead climbing onto the bed and maneuvering Crowley to a place where he could kneel between his legs. 

“Aren’t you going to undress, Angel?” Crowley said, deflecting a little from his self-consciousness. Aziraphale paid the question no mind and set about kissing Crowley’s chest. After a moment, he said “No need to rush. We have plenty of time.” With a slow hand, he pulled off Crowley’s underwear and ran a thumb across Crowley’s clit. “You’re such a handsome boy. Let me admire you.” With one hand he continued to rub Crowley’s clit, but with the other, he cupped Crowley’s face and kissed him reverently, then moved to his neck, collarbones, chest (stopping to pinch each nipple lightly and kiss it, too). By the time Aziraphale had made it between Crowley’s legs, he was flushed pink and rolling his hips against Aziraphale’s hand. Aziraphale hovered there for a moment before beginning to go down on Crowley with the leisurely pace of someone who has done it a thousand times. This time, Aziraphale held Crowley’s hips down firmly, so that he was unable to grind on Aziraphale’s face, as he usually did. 

Aziraphale knew just how to please Crowley—in any form, of course, but in this one, he sucked lightly on Crowley’s clit and marveled for the thousandth time just how sensitive he was, based on the attempted bucking of his hips and the soft exhalations coming from the head of the bed. Aziraphale kept at it, being slower than usual but earnestly trying to make Crowley feel good: alternating between licking and sucking, and focusing all his attention on the one most sensitive spot. 

“Oh, fuck, Angel,” Crowley breathed, and Aziraphale smiled as he continued. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna…” The slowness of Aziraphale’s ministrations were balanced out surprisingly well by how persistent he was, and Crowley’s orgasm threatened to spill over. Not breaking contact, Aziraphale hummed and gripped Crowley’s hips tighter, knowing that there would be soft pink spots where his fingers had been. Crowley strained against that pressure, grinding onto Aziraphale’s mouth as he came. Aziraphale let Crowley ride out the soft, mild wave of pleasure before lifting his head, wiping his chin with the back of his hand and kissing Crowley deeply. 

“You did wonderfully, such a good boy,” Aziraphale whispered. Crowley sighed in contentment, but before he could relax, Aziraphale’s hand was back again, teasing his oversensitive nub with light touches. Crowley shuddered a little involuntarily, but Aziraphale said, “I told you I would take care of you, and I’m not done with you yet, my dear.” Crowley tried to relax, then. The way Aziraphale was talking, they were in for a long night. 

Aziraphale pushed a finger into Crowley as they kissed, and Aziraphale drank up Crowley’s gasp with a small smile. Crowley was drenched, of course, not just from Aziraphale’s saliva, but also from Crowley’s own juices, and Aziraphale had little trouble slipping two fingers in. Crowley felt pleasantly full, and relaxed into the familiar sensation as Aziraphale kept on with the infuriatingly slow pace of his thrusts. With the two fingers inside him, Aziraphale nudged over Crowley’s g-spot, not hard, but enough to make Crowley breathe heavily each time. The flush that had begun in Crowley’s cheeks had spread down his neck and onto his chest. Aziraphale, on his hands and knees above Crowley, leaned down to kiss him there, and gently sucked on Crowley’s neck, not hard enough to give him lasting hickeys, but hard enough that little pink spots appeared where he had been. Aziraphale, with the patience of a saint, helped Crowley past the overstimulation and back into arousal, until he was shuddering once again. 

“Come for me again, my dear. That’s it, good job. You look so lovely and handsome when you’re like this,” Aziraphale said, encouraging. Crowley came silently, his legs clamping together and the small of his back lifting off the bed. This one had built quicker than the first, to a more intense peak, but it was over sooner, and Crowley let his legs fall limply back to the bedspread. Aziraphale removed his hand and put his fingers to Crowley’s mouth. Crowley looked back at him, pupils blown wide, and opened his mouth to suck them. He tasted himself on Aziraphale’s fingers, closing his lips around them and allowing himself a small smile when he noticed how disheveled Aziraphale looked. Even though he was still clothed, he was rumpled, and he looked at Crowley with arousal evident in his eyes. 

With his fingers clean, Aziraphale pulled them from Crowley’s mouth, who let his mouth fall open unwillingly. Aziraphale unbuttoned his vest and shirt and took his time placing them neatly on the back of a nearby chair. He undressed down to his underwear while Crowley waited on the bed, still bound at the hands with his own tie. Once Aziraphale was finished, he got back on the bed and resumed his position on his hands and knees above Crowley. 

“You’ve been such a good boy, Crowley. But I’m still not done with you. You’re such a pretty picture when you come and I want to see it again. Do you think you can do that for me?” he said, all while absentmindedly stroking Crowley’s face, arms, and chest. Crowley, already tired from back-to-back orgasms, nevertheless felt a rush of arousal as he nodded. “Good boy. You don’t have to do a thing but feel good, I promise.” 

Aziraphale was painfully hard in his underwear, having ignored his own arousal thus far, but as he stripped the final layer, he gave himself a few indulgent strokes and gave a groan. He stopped himself before he lost control, though. He still had plans for Crowley and wouldn’t have them ruined by an untimely end to their evening. Instead, he pressed the head of his cock to Crowley’s soaking-wet entrance and slid it over his swollen clit. Crowley hissed, the heightened nerve endings not yet subsiding. The reality that Aziraphale was not yet anywhere near finished playing his body like a fiddle had started to set in, and behind that physical sensitivity was an emotional sensitivity, too. Crowley felt both unbelievably turned on and emotionally raw for some reason.

“I know it’s sensitive, my dear,” Aziraphale said, as if reading Crowley’s mind. He continued rubbing his cock along Crowley’s slit, spreading slick juices onto himself, and he grasped Crowley’s thighs as he did so. “I want you to feel good, and I’m going to keep making you feel good until you can’t take any more.” Aziraphale’s breathing had gotten heavy, and he reached down to position himself.

“Oh” Crowley moaned, long and sustained, as Aziraphale entered him. “I don’t deserve you” The thought was out before he could stop it, and he was grateful that Aziraphale didn’t stop the slow push of his hips forward. 

“You deserve everything I have to offer you, my darling boy. Tonight you deserve exactly what I give, and you’ll take it. You’ll take what I give and know that I would never give you anything you didn’t deserve. You deserve to come so hard it breaks you, and I’ll see that you do.” Aziraphale filled Crowley up, and Crowley couldn’t imagine feeling any more divine than in the moments when Aziraphale was inside him. Aziraphale began to move, and Crowley hooked his bound wrists behind Aziraphale’s head, pulling him in for a kiss, but his mouth falling slack as Aziraphale thrust back in. Crowley’s eyes rolled back a little in his head, and he let out a low moan he had no control over. The first moments were always a little overstimulating, made especially so by the fact that Crowley had already come twice that evening. But after that initial surge of arousal, Crowley realized that Aziraphale was moving incredibly slowly. It seemed impossible how slow Aziraphale was moving, actually. The drag of Aziraphale’s cock inside Crowley was like the kindling of a fire—enough to get him hot but not enough to set him ablaze. He sighed and kissed Aziraphale sloppily, rocking his hips up to meet Aziraphale’s, hoping to force a change in pace. But Aziraphale, as always, was consistent. He pushed his hips forward, steady as a metronome. Crowley wrapped his legs around Aziraphale’s back, still trying to rut upward into him. 

“I’m not… I won’t…” Crowley began, and Aziraphale slowed down even further, each agonizingly slow thrust making Crowley more frustrated. Crowley growled and said, “I can’t come like this. You have to _move_.”

“Oh, my dear. You know I would never deny you. All you have to do is ask,” Aziraphale replied, voice soft and sweet, as he thrust shallowly into Crowley. He knew that he was keeping Crowley just on this side of real pleasure, that he was drawing out the wait before the real fun would begin.

“_Fuck_ me already,” Crowley said impatiently. “Fuck me hard, _please_, I need it hard” Aziraphale complied, increasing the force with which he thrust in, but without picking up the pace. He knew what Crowley wanted, and he wanted to hear him ask for it. The embarrassment and impatience mixed together were a lovely combination. Crowley squirmed under Aziraphale’s hands. 

“Turn over,” Aziraphale said softly, pressing a kiss to Crowley’s ear as he pulled out. Aziraphale caught Crowley’s wrists and unbound them, tossing the tie aside and pushing Crowley’s wrinkled shirt off his shoulders. “No touching still, darling, but I want you to be comfortable. Now, hands and knees, please.” Crowley scrambled to get onto his hands and knees, feeling empty and somehow still aroused. Aziraphale tapped Crowley’s hip to get him to lower down to the proper height, since Aziraphale was a fair bit shorter than Crowley. As soon as he did, Aziraphale slipped back in, earning a renewed moan from Crowley. Though Aziraphale fucked Crowley hard, he kept that same slow pace, hitting Crowley exactly where he wanted but leaving just enough time between that it was never going to get him there. Need made Crowley begin to babble.

“Faster, damn it, Aziraphale. P-please fuck me faster. You know I need it rough, want to come again. Let me come on your cock, please, come on, use me like you mean it—_ohhh_” He was cut off by Aziraphale finally, _finally_ slamming into him like Crowley needed, grabbing his hips hard and forcing him back onto his cock. The sensation was exactly what Crowley had been begging for. He could feel Aziraphale deep inside him and he felt exquisitely full. With each hard thrust, Crowley got closer to his next orgasm, the one he had been teetering on the edge of for too long. 

“You deserve every good feeling I can give to you. I want to make you feel good until you can’t take it anymore,” Aziraphale said, out of breath. Crowley felt so good, so natural, spread out beneath him like this, with Aziraphale pounding into him like nothing else mattered but getting Crowley to his climax, like the only thing in the world was the way the two of them fit together. 

“Oh, fuck,” Crowley whined, and reached between his legs to touch himself. Aziraphale didn’t stop him as he rubbed fast circles around his clit, in time with Aziraphale’s thrusts. Despite the fact that he had already come twice that night, a third orgasm rolled over him, overtaking his whole body and gripping him like a vice. Aziraphale didn’t stop this time, instead continuing to fuck him, and Crowley fell from his hands and knees onto his elbows and then simply rested on his face, too overwhelmed by the sensation to continue holding himself up. The feeling of it all was exquisite and all-consuming. Thinking about how good Aziraphale made him feel had begun to make him weepy, and Crowley found that he was not fully in control of his emotions at this particular moment. 

With that, Crowley started to cry. Aziraphale was pounding in and out of him, his face pressed to the pillows and his body overcome with both tenderness and raw passion, all of it overwhelmed him and tears began to spill from his eyes. For a moment, Aziraphale didn’t notice, but when he did, he stopped moving and began to pull out, which only made Crowley sob. “Please, please don’t stop. Please, angel, don’t sssstop,” he said, in a cracked, broken voice. Crowley was deeply embarrassed that he was crying at all, and that he had begun to say his words in a sort of snakelike way, but Aziraphale complied and continued. 

“It’s all right, Crowley,” he said, “You’re doing so wonderfully, it’s all right to cry. I’m not going to stop, I’m going to keep treating you like a prince, because you are one.” And all the while he said such soft things, he slammed his hips back and forth into Crowley, filling him over and over until Crowley thought he couldn’t possibly hold himself together anymore. He wept and grasped at the sheets near his head and pressed back onto Aziraphale until the only sounds in the room were the lewd smack of their thighs and the occasional hiccuping sigh from Crowley. Crowley’s senses were overwhelmed, the long, slow teasing and now the rough and merciless fucking combining to put him in absolute ecstasy. The catharsis of crying somehow added to the pleasure he felt, each soft sob corresponding with one of Aziraphale’s rough thrusts and a spike of sensual electricity. 

“Gonna come again,” Crowley cried, despite himself. “Please let me come again.”

“Oh, my dear, it’s all right. Come for me, be a good boy. It’s all right,” Aziraphale coaxed. “I love watching you come while I fuck you, looking so lovely for me. I want you to come on my cock again, you feel so good around me” Crowley, now not only overwhelmed by sensation but also by Aziraphale’s loving affirmations, came for a fourth time that night. His back arched sinfully, ass thrown backward, as he impaled himself on Aziraphale’s cock. He shook, tears running down his face as he rode out one of the strongest orgasms he’d ever experienced. And all through it, Aziraphale continued to fuck him _hard_, drawing it out and not letting it end. Each shock of pleasure made Crowley sob, and he dropped his head to his forearms and just let it wash over him.

As Crowley finally went limp under Aziraphale, he slowed down and pulled out. Crowley collapsed spread-eagle onto the bed, breathing hard, tears still leaking from his eyes, and Aziraphale lay down beside him, gathering him up and letting him lay on his chest. Aziraphale pressed kisses to Crowley’s forehead and pet his hair until he stopped hiccuping and opened his eyes. 

“You did so well,” Aziraphale said, and Crowley rolled his eyes sleepily. Rather than respond, Crowley reached a hand to Aziraphale’s still-hard erection and looked at Aziraphale, question in his eyes. “Only if you want to, darling.” Crowley began to stroke rather gently, and Aziraphale closed his eyes and moaned. A devious expression crossed Crowley’s face, and he, without warning, climbed to straddle Aziraphale, and sunk down on his cock, earning him a sharp inhale and a soft curse. Aziraphale gripped Crowley’s hips as he rocked back and forth, the motion leaving a thin sheen of wetness on Aziraphale’s lower tummy. Aziraphale had been holding back an orgasm to ensure that Crowley was satisfied, and it overtook him quickly. “I’m almost…” he said, but Crowley steadied himself by putting his hands on Aziraphale’s chest and riding him faster.

“In me, in me, come on, want it in me” Crowley begged, and Aziraphale came with a whispery moan, Crowley leaning forward so their foreheads were pressed together. Aziraphale shook, the aftershocks making him thrust upward back into Crowley. 

Once Aziraphale took a deep breath, Crowley rolled off him and curled back onto his chest, not minding for the moment that they were awfully messy. Hiding his face in Aziraphale’s soft shoulder, Crowley murmured “Thank you.”

“The pleasure, my dear, was all mine,” Aziraphale laughed, still a little breathless. 

“That’s not entirely true,” Crowley teased, and Aziraphale cupped his chin and brought him in for a kiss, then wiped away an errant tear. 

“I love you,” Aziraphale said, earnestly. Crowley blushed, if such a thing were possible when lying naked with someone. 

“Well. I love you too.”


End file.
